Descent
by Demeter1
Summary: Sephiroth's dead, they've saved the planet, yada yada yada. Now it's up to Yuffie to push Vincent over the edge, both metaphorically and physically.


**"Descent"**

**Demeter**

**Disclaimer:** All rights and privileges of Final Fantasy VII characters, objects and plots are property and trademarks of Squaresoft, Sony and associated parties. The author claims no legal responsibility for problems associated with using this work. The original story, relationships, and characters found within the fic are property of the author Demeter.

**Rating:** PG

**Pairings:** hints of Yuffie/Vincent

**Notes:** Christmas Fic for **Rose Flame**

**Summary:** The fight with Sephiroth is over and it's up to Yuffie to push Vincent over a metaphorical and physical line.

* * *

The cold wrapped its icy arms around her shoulders and blew a shockingly cold wind into her ear, whispering about the death that came with the warmth of sleep. But with a practice derived from years of climbing the Da Chao Mountains, Yuffie ignored the mocking words and leapt nimbly from one of the wooden crates, her arms filled with bandages, antiseptic spray, and potions. While Cure was helpful and all, she sometimes had an aversion to depending so entirely on magic; it wouldn't be the first time someone built a tolerance to magic-based spells. She knew her pack still had several bottles of traditional herbal medicine, and they would do the trick in treating some of the more minor wounds the team had sustained in the Crater.

Everything was still too fresh; she couldn't help but shudder at the onslaught of sharp, vivid memories. With a shake of her head, Yuffie nimbly landed on the metal floor of the airship. Whatever idiot forgot to wire heat to the rest of the ship must really have gotten his arsehole plugged when Cid found out. Inwardly, she mocked the fond note that Cid always used whenever he talked about his 'precious baby', but that could only amuse her for so long. Giggling, Yuffie merrily skipped back to the control room, face beaming in mischievous freedom, knowing very well that the ship would never have to go through another battle like the one they had just barely survived.

The door swinging open, she grew sober as she caught sight of Cloud sitting by Tifa, brushing soft, chocolate locks from pale skin mottled with fresh bruises. There was a note of unusual anguish littering the creases in his forehead and around his eyes. The brilliant light and wave of energy that had resulted from Meteor and the Lifestream – and thus saved them all – had knocked them all silly onto the floor and Tifa had hit her head hard. She'd been unconscious since and while it'd worried them all, Cloud had made it his personal mission to stick by her side until she awoke.

Which was perfectly fine with Yuffie.

Creeping forward, Yuffie placed all the first-aid items on a table bolted to the corner, and brought a bottle of glowing Cure and some coarse linen she'd ripped up hastily to serve as bandages to Cloud. He looked up, the artificial glow of his eyes diminished, but he still managed a wan smile. Taking the two, he carefully poured the restorative, bit by bit, into her mouth, wrapping a strong arm around her shoulders to help her in swallowing. A reflex from somewhere primal forced Tifa to take in the liquid without gagging, and within moments, a warm flush was suffusing itself in her cheeks and Cloud visibly relaxed. After that, he started treating the gouges on her arms and legs where she'd been ripped by the flying shrapnel.

Hiding a smile, Yuffie bounded over to Barret who was cursing inaudibly as he tried to get a signal into Kalm, hoping he could get some firsthand information on the status of the town. Yuffie knew better than to interrupt him then, but couldn't resist tweaking his ear and dancing from the absentminded swipe of his gun-arm.

Cid and Cait Sith was sitting in a corner, and she could tell they were arguing about something over the steady beat of the airship's engines, and decided they could very well help themselves. Glancing around her, she finally noticed that Vincent wasn't there.

"Hey, Cid!"

The man barely spared her a glance, but grunted, "What?"

"Where's Vincent?"

"Hell should I know?" He paused, and then crankily, added, "Probably somewhere sulking." Turning away, he snapped, "I don't care how many licenses and awards you got from Shinra you snotty Rocket Town-metal wannabe! You ain't steering!"

Cait Sith screeched, "I'll have you know I'm the most perfect specimen of Cat Godliness on this tiny little Planet and I'd steer us into space with the proper equipment!"

"Yeah, in your dreams, kitty cat."

Yuffie didn't bother to listen to the rest of their 'conversation' and taking a potion, some bandages, and pausing to retrieve a bottle of her special herbal medicine, she went looking for Vincent. With an instinct derived from dealing with her stubborn old fool of a dad, she knew instinctively she would have to offer help more than once before the vampire even _considered_ taking up her offer. Strange how she'd turned into the group's medic with Aeris... Yuffie bit her lip and then ignored the rest of her thought.

Walking onto the freezing deck – she cursed her outfit again – she saw Vincent standing at the rail, staring down at the swiftly passing clouds and the dying lands of Midgar fading into the distance behind them. Yuffie paused, waiting for him to notice her, having an uncomfortable feeling that now wasn't the time to do her usual 'tackle then speak' routine. Who knew how he'd react, with that dark, brooding look on his face?

Deciding she wasn't much good at waiting, she coughed lightly. She saw his shoulders tense a moment before he turned to her, a neutral, blank expression contained in his crimson eyes. "Yes?"

She held up the bottles and bandages, speaking cheerfully, "While you don't mind wandering around from the loss of blood and then dying in some random corner because you're too macho to get help, there's some of us who don't want to hurl when we step into a gross pool of yucky body parts."

He stared for a moment, uncomprehending, before finally shaking his head. "I don't need anything."

"Please, Vincent." She rolled her eyes. "You have bruises all over and you look like a banged-up version of the hanging corpse at the Haunted Hotel." She paused, thinking of the corpse, and she couldn't help but smile because she had rather liked the messed up place. "And you're probably bleeding internally and dying and stuff because you never tell us when you're hurt."

Shaking his head, Vincent moved as if to slip past her, but she snagged his claw arm, ignoring the faint note of surprise on his face. With more strength than she thought she had, Yuffie dragged him inside and sat him down on an empty crate. Knowing that she would get hell for this later, she loosened his cape, cast it to the side, and thrust the potion right into his face. "Drink this first, and then we can put some of my salve onto your wounds." And, gawd, they were _nasty_.

Busying herself with her herbal medicine, she tried to ignore the faintly bewildered look on Vincent's face as he hesitated before downing the glowing potion. Was it that hard to believe Yuffie, selfishness-imbued, would do anything to help anyone?

"You know, Vincent, you so need to loosen up. There are wrinkles at the corners of your eyes every time you frown, and when you do that constantly, you'll have wrinkles for the rest of your life! Honest! My _otousan_ has the same problem." Unconsciously, she had slipped back into Wutainese during her ramblings. It was a bad habit, one she had attempted to get rid of over the years, but had never quite succeeded. Flushing, she quickly explained, "'Otousan' means father. Sorry 'bout that."

"... Why apologize?"

Glancing up at him from her ministrations, she arched an eyebrow. "I dunno. Most people don't like it when I say something they don't know."

"I understand the language of Wutai."

"You _do_? Hey, why'd you never tell me? I could have talked to you the whole time in Wutainese and _totally_ piss Barret and Cid off!" Yuffie's eyes got the familiar gleam of unholy glee and Vincent edged slightly away. "I mean, they would be _so_ mad they couldn't understand what I was talking about. I mean, I could be calling them asswipes and clunkheads and they wouldn't have a clue! And Cloud would get all mopey and depressed and then Tifa would be depressed too.. ah, maybe not then." Darn. She thought she'd discovered a new way to have a little fun at their expense.

Vincent didn't say a word except arch a raven eyebrow up with a rather doubtful expression. '"I don't think they would appreciate that, Yuffie."

"Well, _duh_. That's the whole _point_ Vincent." She rolled her eyes dramatically to underscore her 'point'. "What fun would it be if it didn't annoy them?"

She'd continued to work on his wounds, but she could see that he was actually seriously considering her question. Laughing, she pressed her index finger smack dab against his forehead and smoothed out the wrinkles. "Don't think so hard, Vinnie; you might get a headache."

Yuffie couldn't help but think it was a huge pity Vincent's skin was temporarily marred by the contusions and gashes. He had skin most women she knew in Wutai would die – and quite literally if she remembered Lady Sayuri correctly – for. He'd also stuck his way through about fifty million battles and why wasn't his hair hurt in any way or fashion? It was still soft and it was still as black as the night sky.

There was a semi-comfortable silence as Yuffie helped Vincent with what else she could do; when she'd finished, Vincent looked somewhat disturbed at the amount of gauze wrapped around arms, neck, and face. He could swear he looked like...

"Yuffie."

"Yeah, Vinnie?"

"Do I really need all this?"

"Um..."

"The truth, Yuffie."

"Well, no."

Yuffie huffed. "But I swear, you'd look so good as a mummy! Dontcha think?"

"... there's no mirror."

With a nearly insane amount of glee, Yuffie immediately grabbed his hand and dragged him toward the nearest bathroom. Ignoring the skirted figure on the door, she pushed Vincent through the door and positioned him carefully. Giving him critical looks worthy of a pretentious art gallery, Yuffie nodded her approval and then beamed at him through the mirror. "Isn't it just a work of art?"

Indeed. If works of art included Vincent's entire neck and shoulder being wrapped tightly in white gauze and his arms resembling a close encounter with a boxing match. Lucky she'd kept away from his face, but even there, he noticed lines criss-crossing in what could almost be an artful attempt to create a comical effect... if not for the menacing and cold burgundy eyes.

"Say you like it?"

Rather flatly, Vincent said, "It's not me."

"Nuh uh! It's the newest style! Don't you ever read Junon Weekly or Saucer Vogue?" Yuffie placed her hands on her hips, in mocking indignation.

"No, Yuffie."

Huffing, she said, "You're not fun Vincent. Isn't it, like, _over_?" She gestured madly with her hands to emphasize her point. "You're still acting like we're on the brink of death and mayhem and all that funny stuff."

Stiffly, Vincent started pulling off the faux bandages wrapped around his face. "I don't see how that has anything to do with this."

"Hello, planet to Vinnie!"

"What?"

"I make a joke; you're supposed to laugh or maybe smile. It isn't too hard to ask, right?"

She waved vaguely at the swiftly passing gray clouds. "Do you really want to jump over the railing?"

He paused, a little disoriented at the sudden change in conversation. "Of course not."

"Well, that's what you're doing."

He raised an eyebrow. "... no, I'm not." Literally, anyways.

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes."

"No, Yuffie."

"**Yes**."

"N... this is not something I want to argue." He paused. And then shortly, "Especially with you."

"Why? Cause I'll win? Or cause I'm too young and stupid?"

With a fairly bewildered look, he said calmly, "That's not what I said."

"But that's what you meant!" Yuffie's face was flushing a deep hue of pink and there was an unusual amount of anger coloring her eyes and provoking an uncomfortable heaviness in Vincent's chest. "It's what you meant and everyone else too!"

"Yuffie, calm down."

Surprisingly, she did. "Vincent. You're my friend, whether you like it or not. And I just have a few words for you."

He waited for her 'few words', but Yuffie had tilted her head to the side, strands of chocolate hair framing the curves of her face. She was a good foot shorter than him, but he'd long seen her in action, on and off the field. There had been times she'd bested Cloud in one-on-one brawls and others, she'd drank Barret under the table. Yuffie made the best tea of anyone on the team and could cook adequately when Tifa was ill or too tired. The young ninja was a formidable opponent and while it seemed to be overshadowed by her sarcastic and playful nature, Vincent could honestly say she was a worthy companion and fearsome enemy.

Which was why he found himself hoping – just the littlest bit – that she wouldn't go off on a tantrum.

"Vincent?"

"Yes?"

"Let's jump off the ship."

Vincent had gotten somewhat used to Yuffie, probably the best of everyone, but he couldn't help but blink and then stare at Yuffie, a Vincent-equivalent of gaping. "... what did you say?"

"We're gonna jump off this ship, right now."

He looked at her and then at the railing where the wind was whistling a little ominously.

"C'mon. If you don't, I'll do it all by myself."

With a final tug on his shirt sleeve, Yuffie made a quick scamper and was at the railing before Vincent could even react – he gave himself a grudging moment of admiration – and he found himself staring at her balancing carefully on the _other_ side of the railing. Standing up hastily, he ignored the aching pains in his muscles and approached her with caution. "Yuffie... get away from there."

She glanced at him over her shoulder, twisting a pale neck that was being buffeted by wind and messy hair. It was a wholly bizarre situation, because Vincent would have called it suicidal if it hadn't been _Yuffie Kisaragi_ who was standing there. She was as far from suicidal as anyone he'd ever know and he'd known plenty.

"C'mon Vincent. Let's jump!"

Yuffie was... rather cheerful. For someone perched on the brink of a very nasty end.

"Get back here." His eyes darted around the empty deck, almost wishing it was anyone but him here to deal with a newly-enthused Yuffie intent on leaping to her death. "You're going to get hurt." A very gross understatement. The wind was whipping everything unattached to the ship and he couldn't tell if she was shaking her head or not.

"This is _our_ chance, y'know?"

"... what?"

"Our chance, Vinnie. We gotta do this or you'll never get it right."

"Get _what_ right?"

There was a clearness to her dark eyes he'd never noticed before. There was a confidence he doubted even Red might have had and he had to wonder: how had she kept her gaiety and happiness in the face of all the grief and devastation? She'd walked into the same Crater as he had. So why did she come out so unscathed? Why didn't she wake up in nightmares? Why wasn't she tortured by the things they'd done?

"Like I said, Vinnie. This is your one chance. You'd better jump or I'm going to end up as a Yuffie-splatter on the ground." Her voice was soft and encouraging and Vincent could hardly bear the ringing tones that told him of his insurmountable sins.

"What do you want from me?" Frustrated, he was speaking in a loud tone of voice that constituted screaming for him.

"For you to get off the railing and stop wondering every moment whether you should jump or not." She quirked an odd smile.

"You're the one standing at the railing."

"Yeah, but only physically."

"I didn't realize there was another way." But he did.

She nodded emphatically. "Oh yes, there is. What do you call going back to your coffin?"

Vincent stiffened. "That has nothing to do with-"

Yuffie interrupted him with a bark of sharp laughter. "Oh, Vinnie. That has _everything_ to do with that!" The airship rocked unsteadily as it hit another pocket of air, but the ninja has already braced herself in anticipation. Her feet slipped a little, but stayed firmly attached to the little shelf on the outside of the railing. His heart stopped and jumped again. It was the only thing keeping her from plunging to imminent death. "You're gonna kill yourself and it's the same thing as jumping off this railing right here and now! So why not make it easy? Why not just end it here and now?"

He shook his head violently and he moved forward with a brutal and startling speed. "You don't know a thing about my life, Kisaragi!" In the heat of the moment, instead of using his human hand, he reached for her with his metal arm. The gold flashed in the dimming sunlight and grazed against her skin. It was enough to startle Yuffie since Vincent never, _ever_ touched anyone with the burnished steel unless seriously provoked.

Which, apparently, he was.

Though in the next few seconds, it didn't matter since she'd let go of the railing in haste and found herself falling in slow motion away from the ship and _oh fuckity fuck fuck fuck I'm going to die I'm going to die I'm going to die_ she had nothing to grasp except the flying clouds, rushing air, and the naked horror in Vincent's scarlet eyes as she fell from the side of the ship.

Yuffie discovered that when a person is falling from a great, great height – enough so that there might not even be a body to identify in the end – things tend to become suddenly clear. She now knew she had been an idiot for trying to change what was already set in stone. And there was no one harder and more stubborn than the Stony One, Vincent Valentine.

Even if he was the hottest brooder who ever walked in metal shoes.

Well. At least they kicked Sephiroth's ass.

There was a long, sharp whine that sounded like a kettle trying to boil over and with nothing to do other than fall to her certain death, she looked up to see a great, caped, flying... "VINCENT!" Her arms came up instinctively, and flailed around to try to slow down her dizzying descent. It was bad enough she was about to end up into Yuffie soup on the ground; somehow, she felt Vincent-entrails mixing with hers was ten times worse, not to mention really gross.

She could see him mouthing words against the pressing of air and exhilaratingly, she started slowing. _Float_, was the first thing to cross her mind and there was a little irritation since how did Vincent end up with that little gem without her knowledge?

It was enough to slow her for Vincent - still plummeting rapidly - to catch up and swing a long arm - human, this time - roughly around her waist. Yuffie jerked against the difference in their relative speeds and grunted from the hot pain that flooded through her. _Ooh boy, that's gonna bruise tomorrow._

Even shouting words to magic, Vincent's voice sounded sexy.

It was a bad time to realize that, because the next moment, he'd grasped her close to him and Yuffie realized they really _were_ going to plummet to their death if she didn't do something too. The float was slowing them down, but she could tell it wasn't nearly enough for this to end happily.

She racked her mind desperately, hoping some plan would magically appear like a hot pot of coffee during the early mornings. Her materia was based partly on defense (she took a moment to wonder when she had become the team's impromptu medic) and all she had for offense was Earth and... Yuffie suddenly had one of her brilliant ideas as she spotted the lonely single summon in her Conformer. It was a dinky, newly-born Bahamut, but it was _Bahamut_, a summon with _wings_!

With a hoarse yell, she wriggled her hands free and with a mad desperation, Yuffie used every bit of her will and strength culled from years working with materia to call up the legendary dragon.

An ear-splitting roar burst into the air and the terrifying form of Bahamut exploded from nothingness. It's glittering eyes spotted Yuffie and Vincent immediately. Gracefully bending it's body, Bahamut swooped under them and gently caught them on a scaly back lined with delicately scalloped ridges. The impact of colliding with hard, leathery skin still hurt and Yuffie knew she had caught a chunk of skin on one of Bahamut's jagged spines.

Yuffie laughed in delight and sheer adrenaline and pressed a sloppy kiss to Bahamut's leathery back.

"Woot! We're saved, Vinnie!"

The dragon circled slowly to the ground and by the time clawed feet touched the ground, Yuffie had gained back most of her confidence. She also felt strangely smug for someone who had almost died, but attributed it to the fact that while her falling was partly an accident, Vincent _had_ jumped off after all. After the slid off the dragon, she patted the heavily-muscled neck and Bahamut melted away into the air leaving nothing but a lingering echo of fire.

She turned to look at him and noticed there was an almost shell-shocked glaze over his eyes. Stifling a snicker, she said, "See? That wasn't so bad."

He threw her an unbelieving look. "We almost..."

"Almost being the operative word here, Vinnie." Fiendishly, she rubbed her hands together. "We should do this more often."

Not for the longest time could Vincent speak after that. The airship landed with Cid frothing at the mouth due to the PHS call Yuffie had rung in to cheerfully tell him that she and Vincent had fallen off the ship and could they come get them? Vincent had to be herded back onto the ship and after they had set him down on one of the crates, all he could do was stare blankly at the floor.

Which was why he didn't even notice when they flew over the frothing waves of Lucrecia's waterfall. He was too busy contemplating ways to throw Yuffie over the railing again, sans Conformer.

**fin**


End file.
